


Illusio, Superstes, Nocte

by carzla



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Angst, Drabble Collection, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-26
Updated: 2012-01-26
Packaged: 2017-10-30 03:35:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/327310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carzla/pseuds/carzla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the LiveJournal LaviYuu Fest 2011 100 Themes Drabble Contest. Themes chosen: <i>Illusion, Survivor</i> and <i>Night</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Illusio, Superstes, Nocte

**Author's Note:**

> _Illusion_ won first place in the drabble contest. Thank you to the judges!
> 
> Spoilers for Kanda's past and very, _very_ vague allusions to sex. All drabbles are 100 words each; it was good practice writing something short while trying to convey as much as possible. Wasn't easy at all.

**01: Illusion**

Sometimes, Kanda wondered who the deceiver was - him or Lavi?

It seemed simple. Lavi was Bookman Junior; a personality that could and _would_ be swapped for another once it was time. But while Kanda wasn't book-smart, he wasn't a fool either.

Lavi had become as real as a Bookman who was supposed to be heartless could be.

So he wondered if Lavi _knew_ him; he who was born from the Second Exorcist project. He didn't think so and he'd never tell.

If only to let their unlikely relationship continue to bloom a little longer...

Illusions, after all, were his specialty.

**02: Survivor**

Lavi was a survivor; he had to be. Between following Bookman for the better part of eighteen years of life and becoming an Exorcist, if he hadn't been one before, he certainly was now.

It was this mentality that kept him moving forwards, even on earth-shattering occasions like when he realized he had a heart. Or when that heart fell in love.

But perhaps he wasn't that much of a survivor. Because he was _frozen_ now, right after learning Yuu had _left_. Without a goodbye. Not even a word for him.

He wasn't a survivor; he was about to shatter.

**03: Night**

In the dark of the night, they met. In the tranquility of the night, they communicated.

Under the indulgent gaze of the moonbeams, they laid bare. Under the shimmering onyx veil of the sky, they had no pretense. There were no masks. No shields.

Fiery red intermingled with midnight blue across a canvas of snow-white.

No need for complex sentences, no need for strung out words. Simple, straightforward actions and penetrating gazes were far more effective in conveying that which would not (could not?) be voiced.

Night was sanctuary; their liberation.

Darkness was salvation; the only time they could shine.


End file.
